May You Live in Interesting Times
by FrozenTech
Summary: Its about 3 months after the events of Blood Rites - and things are almost returning to normal, which means its time for something to go bump in the night and remind Harry why that old Chinese saying was considered both a Blessing... and a Curse.


AN: I guess its just my day for coming across old works. I found this while digging through some poorly named documents on my hard drive – cleaned it up, and I think maybe now I'll get in the mood to get it completed. No promises on how fast that'll be – but hopefully you all enjoy. Read and Review, if you please.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Dresden. Only OC's belong to me. Everything else belongs to Jim Butcher.

This story takes place roughly 3 months after Blood Rites.

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Some days, it just doesn't pay to step out of your cavern like apartment, and wander into the world. Today was going to be one of those days, the little voice in the back of my head kept incessantly chanting. I should have listened. I mean, the sun hadn't even come up yet, and here I was on the wrong side of town at a rundown Denny's. Now for those of you who don't have a bounty on your head from the Red Court, this probably doesn't sound too bad. I had to have been having a bout of insanity to agree to meet here, instead of somewhere somewhat safe... like a military bunker.

But here I was, sitting in the non-smoking section of Denny's, wolfing down what they called mini burgers and fries, trying ignore the three deviant Asian youths sitting a booth away, and making too much noise. Where were they're parents anyway? It was three am, and this wasn't exactly a nice neighborhood in Chicago.

Shaking my head as they changed their order for the third time, much to the chagrin of the overnight waitress, I glanced out the large pane window beside me, and again felt very exposed. Anyone with a half decent rifle could pick me off from across the street... and I wouldn't know what hit me til it was too late. Now, there are a lot of very impressive things I can do. I'm a Wizard after all. In fact, I'm the only Wizard I know of in the phonebook. Need help of an otherworldly nature? Take a look, I'm in the book. My name is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden, and right then I was feeling very, very exposed.

Above me the ceiling fan started to squeak horrendously again, a side effect of me being a bit too close no doubt. Trying to control my nerves I sipped my coke and waited. My prospective client was already twenty minutes late. I'd give her another ten before I decided to make a night of it.

As if on cue, the front door creaked and opened. I doubted its hinges had been oiled in years. Glancing towards it, I couldn't keep a slightly Spock like expression off my face as the woman I guessed had to be my new client stepped through the doorway. I mean really, can't I get a normal client just once? She was dressed in tight leather pants, which were open and laced on the side, revealing a good deal of pale, but not too pale leg. Her boots were calf high, laced tight, laces tucked into the top of the boot, and flat soled. It was the only part of her outfit that was sensible. The pants were topped by a wide leather belt, which hung at a slightly rakish angle. Above that, she was bare to a leather halter, which did little to hide what it had to offer, while still managing to almost seem conservative, compared to the rest of her outfit. Atop that she wore a black mid-length leather coat. Not as long as mine, but it wasn't really short either. The rest of the leather was a dark brown.

As she walked by the booth with the young Asians, all three were silent for the first time since I'd stepped into the all night diner, as they stared slack jawed for a moment before hooting and whistling, coupled with more then a few less then subtle cat calls.

To her credit she ignored them. As she sat down I stood up, and took a moment to pull my eyes from the rest of what her body had to offer and study her face. That's me, mister restraint. She had flame red hair, the greenest set of eyes I'd seen outside of the Fae, and just the barest hint of freckles. And it made the little voice in my head wonder aloud if what they say about redheads was true.

I shook my head slightly to clear it of the various things that were meandering through my minds eye, while she settled in, pushing a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, I sat down as well.

"Old world rules... and they say chivalry is dead." she more or less purred, with a slight Irish lit.

"They're generally right. Mostly I'm just a throwback. You're late." I replied, trying to get straight to business.

She nodded, attempting to look me in the eye for a moment. I studiously focused on her nose. It's a trick you learn when looking into someone's eyes can show you things you might not want to see. It's called a soulgaze, and what you see there, you never, ever forget. I'd been tricked into a few I didn't want, and while I wasn't sure I'd see anything I didn't want to see here, I knew I didn't want her to see whatever was behind my eyes.

After a moment she gave up, and then nodded, "Aye... I had a bit o'trouble on the way over here."

Part of me wanted to ask her what she'd expected, wearing what she did, in this part of Chicago, but then, I knew appearances could be very deceiving. "Well, you called me ma'am. Why don't you tell me what is so important we couldn't meet in my office?"

"Your office has a bit of a reputation, Mister Dresden, as do you. This seemed a bit safer." She somehow managed to say that with a straight face.

"Then you have a strange idea of safe, miss?" I didn't like the way she smiled at that. It had too much of a predatory look to it. And certain parts of my anatomy told me it was turning me on. I ignored them to the best of my ability.

She continued to smile for a moment, "You can call me Illona Mister Dresden. It'll do for now."

"Fair enough. Call me Harry though, Mister Dresden sounds far too formal to me right now. So what can I help you with?" Right to business, yep, that's me.

She studied me for a long moment before answering, "I understand you were Blackstaff McCoy's apprentice."

My face hardened. I still wasn't sure what to think about my former teacher. Once I'd held the utmost respect for the man, but after what I'd found out recently, I wasn't sure I could still hold that respect.

"Were is a good word for it."

She studied me for a moment again, then nodded, "Indeed. Still, your exploits speak for themselves. I need your help Mister... I mean Harry. I'm in a bit of trouble, and I could use an able spell slinger to watch my back."

"What kind of trouble are we talking about?" Being in trouble was nothing new to me; it was more like a usual operating procedure.

"I believe you'd call it, the large slobbering type." she said, with just a hint of a chuckle.

I raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, "Really." Why can't I ever get the subtle, dark demented type of trouble? "Alright... How much trouble us talking?"

"A pack or so, no more then a dozen, but perhaps fewer if I didna know better, I'd say someone in Faerie didn't like me."

I'm a sucker for women, I admit it. And before my mind could stop my mouth, "Alright... I'll help you, but first, my fee." Hey, I might be a sucker, but I'm a sucker with bills, alright?

She blinked a couple of times, then reached into her coat and pulled out an envelope and pushed it across the table, "Two grand to cover, I'll pay double your normal rate beyond that. I didn't think you were quite that much of a mercenary, Mr Dresden."

I looked at her hard, "Look lady, I don't even know who you are. You're telling me, you're in trouble, of a large, slobbering type, and asking me to risk my neck to help you. Pro-bono might be good for the soul, but it doesn't satisfy the bill collector." Ok, maybe that was a bit harsher then I'd meant it to be. But she'd called me, seeking my help, and work had been rather slim lately.

Her green eyes narrowed to slits for a moment, and she nodded, "So mote it be then."

I shivered as I felt a tiny thread of power slide between us. That was something I hadn't expected. If I didn't miss my guess, we were now bound, magically by the agreement. Yes, I just said magic. Not the kinds of magic you go see at a magicians show, real magic. And this was exceptionally subtle. So she was a practitioner of some type, and a damn good one.

My wariness meter just about pegged. "Alright, I need to gather a few things from my place first."

"That is acceptable. I will meet you there in, three hours? Then I can explain a bit more thoroughly."

I nodded, I sort of wanted to know how she knew where I lived, but then, it seemed like I was on pretty much every supernatural beings watch list these days, so I decided it best not to ask, at the moment. I waited until she stood, and then stood myself, and slipped out of the booth I left enough cash on the counter to pay for me meal, and an extra few bucks for the waitress for having to deal with those fool kids then, unconsciously let Illona lead the way out to the parking lot, except where I caught both doors for her. She didn't seem to notice anything odd. It afforded me another look at her from behind, and though it was hidden by the tail of her leather coat, something told me it, was in perfect proportion to the rest of her.

We separated in the parking lot, I headed for the Blue beetle, which had long before ceased being blue, mottled with too many spare parts of other Volkswagens, as she headed for a midnight black crotch rocket parked just two spaces away from the door. Somehow it just fit the woman's style. As she pulled a midnight black helmet over her head she looked back at me, "Dresden..."

"Yeah?"

"I like the coat." she said before slapping the visor down over her eyes and starting the import engine which blatted noisily to life, sounding something like a Eureka vacuum on steroids It didn't have the sexy throb of Murphy's Harley, and I instantly found myself not liking it.

I shook my head as I slid my tall frame into my car, and turned the key. The poor engine sputtered and coughed its way to life. Yeah, my beetle has sex appeal written all over it

Backing out of my spot, I thought I caught a flash of silver on the side of Illona's cycle as she hopped the curb, already doing better then thirty, and engine howling like an incredibly loud zipper, shot down the street.

I couldn't match that exit as I left the parking lot, my car putt puttering its way home. I did try to squeal my tires, just for effect, but the Beetle didn't agree with me, and I thought better of it.

Yeah... sexy cool, that's me...

Luckily enough, getting back across town was relatively painless, traffic at three AMish being a near non-entity... at least compared to rush hour traffic. Dodging late night roadwork is easier then dodging caffeine laden carpoolers.

Driving was still a pain, the Beetle's a manual beast, and not having two completely functioning hands makes driving an interesting proposition, but I'd become accustomed to the pain from my left hand and using it to steady the wheel while I shifted wasn't quite as eye watering as it had been a few weeks ago. I still tried not to look at the now thinner bandaging. I was thinking about investing in a black leather glove, to cover it up after the bandages came off, and until I could afford that surgery. It'd be very Luke Skywalker of me.

That was still a few weeks off. Pulling up to my apartment I winced as for the umpteenth time I attempted to pop the door with my left hand. Eventually I'd remember I'd had it burned nearly to a cinder, really. I tried not to think of the cool spot of skin near the center of my palm as I headed down the stairs to my door, opening the deadbolt while murmuring a bit of fractured Latin, temporarily lowering the Wards on my door. Slipping inside I managed to get the door closed before thirty pounds of tomcat slammed affectionately into my legs. Mister looked up at me and mrowled in greeting before padding over to his forlornly empty food dish. Stars and Stones I knew I'd forgotten something. Mister was out of cat food again. I swear he's been eating more lately... to keep up with Mouse.

At that moment the grey, flop eared dog that belonged to the aforementioned name skittered around the corner, and came bounding out of my little room. He'd gotten bigger, fast, and was now almost as big as my cat, and as fast as he put down the dog food, he'd be a bloody monster in no time. Mouse indeed. He came to a stop before me peering up at me with those big puppy eyes and I reached down and scratched his head as I headed for the icebox with the aid of the light from the dying fire.

Yes, I said fire. My apartment is lit by candles when it's lit at all, and its stone floor is covered in everything from knock off Navajo weave to a giant Elvis throw rug. It might not look like much, but have you ever walked on a bare stone floor? It's COLD, all year round. My furniture like my floor coverings, doesn't match, but it's comfortable. Keeping posh new furniture doesn't pay when you have to be watchful for the random demon attack. My walls are covered in cheap tapestries, which mostly match, and the original Star Wars movie poster that Billy the Werewolf got me a few years back. That being said my apartment is neat and clean. Having a faerie cleaning service is wondrous, you just can't tell anyone about it, or they quit. Opening the icebox I double checked the ice level; I'd have to refreeze it soon.

You see being a Wizard isn't always all its cracked up to be. Sure, I can do things that would make the average guy on the street stare in awe, like say, call up a shield to fend off bullets, throw around a bar of fire as thick as your arm... or use a bit of wind to call my staff to me like some sort of Jedi.

That said virtually any technology newer then World War Two generally doesn't work around me... if I'm lucky. If I'm not, it has the bad habit of dying in a spectacular fashion so no refrigerator, electric range, or even a water heater for me. I'd disconnected it shortly after I'd moved in. Its gas fired, and I really don't need my apartment going up in a fireball... ever. You get used to cold showers eventually. Really... you do.

Pulling out a Coke I popped the top and took a long slug. Nectar of the gods that. Toeing the rug back from the trap door that led to the sub-basement I set the Coke down and pulled the door open. Idly I wondered where Thomas was, but he'd been disappearing more frequently at night of late, and he was a big boy who could take care of himself

Picking my coke back up I made my way down the steep stairs into the darkness of my Laboratory. A whispered, "Feugo" brought light to the darkness as candles flared along the walls. My lab isn't quite as neat and clean as the rooms above, I don't let my 'cleaning service' wander down here, but its organized enough. Three long work tables stretch the length of the space, one against each wall, and one down the middle. Above them simple wire mesh racks hold all sorts of spell ingredients, carefully catalogued and dated, with the contents, where I got it, and when. I've got everything from an Aardvark's bark to Zebra tears down here, and at one time or another, they've all been useful.  
The one area completely clear of clutter was my summoning circle near the back. After a few recent difficulties I'd splurged and upgraded it to silver. The concrete there still looked new.

One shelf near the back, remains wood and old, covered in layers of candle wax of mottled color, more then a few trashy romance novels, a couple of Victoria's Secret catalogues, and a bow, that had once been the single adornment on one very beautiful woman.

Amid that clutter sat a human skull. His name is Bob. Well, technically the spirit of intellect that inhabits the skull is named Bob. But that's sorta a mouthful, so it's Bob the Skull. He basically remembers anything and everything he's ever seen and done. And since I've granted him haven, he works as my own personal data assistant, computer, cataloguer, and rememberer of all things I tend to forget. In return... I pay him with trashy romance novels, the more lurid sex the better.

It's a good working relationship, usually.

Hanging my black leather duster on the hook next to the stairs I donned my thick plaid bathrobe, wrapping it around myself as I headed over to Bob, lighting a few more candles along the way, with a stick lit from one near the stairs.

"Bob, wake up." I said as I sat down, gathering a notebook, and a pencil to myself.

No response, "Bob! I need to talk to you. Wake UP." Rapping on the skull once I watched as a faint orange light started as a pinpoint, near the back of the eye sockets. Bob yawned, which in and of itself is a rather interesting thing to watch, given his lack of lungs.

"...rrhurmph." I could swear he was smacking lips he didn't have for a moment, "What do you need Harry? Its kinda late for you isn't it?"

"I just met the new client."

"Oh... that's right, the one with the odd meeting instructions. Well, you came back alright it seems. How'd it go?"

"I'm not sure. She seemed to be a practitioner of some sort, and she hired me to cover her back while she's in town..." I thought for a moment, "And there was something generally odd about her..."

That piqued Bob's interest, "Her? So the new client is female? Is she hot? Come on man, give me the details."

I looked at Bob and sighed, "Just once, can you keep your mind on the task at hand?" 

"What? Is she hot or not? I mean... it has been a while for ya, but you still know how everything works... right? I figure you could use a good romp in the hay. We could try that love potion again. It worked well the last time, as I recall."

"It nearly got both me AND Susan killed!" That had to be the understatement of the year, but that was also ancient history, and after that little faux pas I'd decided to stick to what my ad said. NO love potions.

"Details, details, if that demon hadn't come a calling, you'd have gotten crazy laid. By the way... if you do... you know... try that potion again, can I ride along?" Bob looked entirely too hopeful.

I growled, "Bob, I've said this before, and I'll say it again. I'm not letting you ride along in my skull. I wouldn't do it with Susan, and I wouldn't do it now. Besides, she's a paying client. Now, can we get back to the task at hand?"

"Spoil sport. You humans just don't know how good you've got it." Bob got sullen for a moment, then continued, "A practitioner huh? What's her name?"

"Illona, that's all I know." Which rather made me uncomfortable, I knew next to nothing about the woman. But I had promised to help, and she was paying really well.  
Maybe I could get the bill collectors off my back for a month or two with this job. At least they didn't threaten to blow my brains out with a high powered rifle if I didn't pay up. But that's a whole 'nother ball of wax.

Bob went silent, and his eye lights dimmed for a moment, as he checked his memory, as they brightened again he was slow to speak... "Harry... drop the case."

"Huh? Why? She's already put down 2 grand to secure, and has promised double my normal fee. And I could really use the money."

Bob turned and banged his forehead against the wall, "Tell me you didn't make a bargain with her."

"She wasn't Fae. I'm sure of that."

"Well, what gave that away oh great knower of women?"

"She roared away on a crotch rocket." I said, feeling relatively sure of myself. In general the Fae aren't quite up to speed with modern times or conveniences. Plus, they don't exactly like cold iron. And most vehicles have steel in them...

The skull impacts increased, "Harry... you do realize they make those things mostly out of aluminum and plastic these days... but miraculously, you are correct. Illona isn't of the Fae. She's in a whole 'nother weight class."

"And?"

"Illona is as best as anyone can ascertain, is probably the descendant of an ancient god. Some say one of the old sun gods. No one is really sure. She is for certain, from Ireland, and most of the time operates out of there."

I raised an eyebrow, I wasn't aware the old codgy gods could do something like that. But then, there was a lot of things I wasn't aware of, "Interesting story... so?"

Bob stopped slamming his skull against the wall and turned to look at me, "Stop talking and start listening Harry! She's either the daughter of a god, or the descendant of one. Either way gives her a crap load of power. Now, generally the tails about Illona are good ones, I've never seen the woman myself, but she tends to do good things, like slaying big ugly beasties, saving children in distress, and other good moral things..."

"Seems like the kind of person I'd like to get to know." She was attractive after all... and she paid exceptionally well.

Bob shook his head, "You don't get it do you? Why would she come to Chicago? To secure the services if an undoubtedly powerful, but arguably neophyte wizard such as yourself, it doesn't make sense. We know for certain it isn't your charm."

I snorted, "So, she was in town and needed some quick help to watch her back."

Bob looked about ready to go beating his head against the wall, "Harry, you don't get it. Beings like that are... connected to their place and time. The farther she gets from Ireland, the weaker she becomes. That being a relative term of course. She could probably still squash you with an eye blink or two, but why move away from one's center of power..."

A light went off in my head, "Unless she was threatened by something. Something that had the possibility to shift, say a balance."

"Give the boy a star! Right Harry, and who do we know who's been involuntarily channeling Hellfire recently, and happens to have the sigil of Lasciel on his left hand?"

"She wouldn't be coming here for me... Besides... the coins safely behind three circles of power..." That still didn't add up. It just didn't.

"Maybe not Harry, but if I were you I'd keep it in mind. Now you made a bargain with her... correct?"

"Uh, yah… well, we agreed to terms of contract I suppose. Then she said, 'So mote it be' and there was a little tug of power. It was odd, but I didn't worry too much about it." And suddenly I started to wonder, perhaps if I should have been worried about it. Bargains and me had a rather bad habit of going bad, usually because I try to weasle out of them when I find that cliff at the end of the nicely adorned road.

Still, I hadn't felt any glamour coming off her, and I had enough experience with a good lot of that to know the difference. Still, she had kept me somewhat distracted. "So... what do I have to worry about here Bob?"

"Truth be told, I don't know, there isn't much known about Illona. But you and bargains with otherworldly powers seldom go well. And... If she put a binding on you..." Bob suddenly changed the subject. "By chance, did you see a really big axe with her?"

I thought back, I hadn't no, and was about to say as much until I played back her ripping by on that motorcycle of hers. I had caught a flash of something odd... something that could have been an axe... "Yah... I might have."

"Crap."

"What?"

"Well, according to the legends... she only carries that axe when she intends to use it... or to find a lover."

"Ok..." Well... so either I'd have to fend off an axe wielding demi-goddess, or avoid her passions... or... not.

"Incidentally... there are quite a few legends about her libido. A good many of them are really quite interesting. Apparently once she once slept with every man in an entire village. Not at the same time... but over a period of months..."

"That's... very... interesting Bob." I jotted down a few notes and pushed away from the table, "I'm going to have to gather a few things, she's going to be over in about an hour to go over the details of whatever it is we're hunting."

I headed for the stair, but Bob called after me...

"Harry... one more thing. I know you're probably too moral to worry about this but..." He paused.

"What is it Bob?" I asked, turning my head slightly, to look back at the animated skull, Bob wasn't usually very, reluctant.

"No one who's been said to have gone to her bed, or has been the target of her wrath has ever survived."

That gave me pause for a moment, "Well then. I'll just have to avoid both of those possibilities." It was something to keep in mind. "You sure my new shield bracelet will work as advertised?"

"Of course! I helped design it." Bob sounded indignant, which was good. Either he wasn't too worried about Illona, or he'd just managed to forget about it in three point five seconds. Either was possible.

"I hope so, if not, you might be looking for a new hand for me..." With that, I left the candles burning, grabbed my duster and headed up the stairs back into my apartment, there was a good deal of things to get done yet...


End file.
